


Pink clothes, red heart

by Angelicat2



Series: Pink clothes, red heart [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, At least at the start, Blushing, Confusion, First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, Lots of confusion, POV Shiro (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Pre-Relationship, Red and Black are their cats, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 10:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14566632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelicat2/pseuds/Angelicat2
Summary: Accidently putting their clothes in the same washer was what started it all.Shiro blinked as he looked at the line of machines. Shiro had put his in the third one...which was right where the guy was leaning. Shiro didn't completely understand, so he leaned over the man's shoulder. He couldn't stop himself from gasping slightly and yanking one of the clothing pieces out of it. It was one of his white tank tops he always wore when working out. Instead of the pristine white it normally was, it was..."No, no, no," Shiro frowned as he glanced at the rest of the clothes, seeing a few that he didn't recognize, "Shit. All my clothes are pink. Shit."





	Pink clothes, red heart

**Author's Note:**

> My friend **Tatsuha21** gave me the random sentence of "No no no. All my clothes are pink." to make into a modern Sheith fic. Hope everyone enjoys this...

Shiro supposes this is what he gets for leaving his laundry in the washer in the apartment complex. He had been tired, PTSD not making his night any easier. He had completely forgotten his prosthetic in his apartment, distracted by both his cat and the fact he had missed his usual laundry night. He had rushed back to his place to put it on, nothing new to the whole event. He had regularly wandered back to his apartment to finish feeding Black before. This time was hardly any different.

Usually, Shiro was good at keeping his clothes washed. He did them every week during the less busy hours of the night on Friday. Hardly anyone used the machines anyway as it was, either using one of the laundry mats in the town or having one of their own. How was he supposed to know someone else was also using them at the same time?

He had gotten his prosthetic strapped to his chest, metal meeting scarred flesh, petted his ebony feline, and went back to the laundry room only to see a guy standing over the washer. He was fairly short, peering into a now open washer.

"What are you doing?" 

The man twisted around in surprise, eyes going wide. Shiro lost his train of thought when he noticed they were indigo in color. Like the depths of space. Ink hair fell onto a young looking face. The guy couldn't have been much older than seventeen, eighteen at most. From his outfit, Shiro noted that he must not have been in a rush, clothes casual but not night clothes like Shiro was in. Either that, or the guy slept in his normal outfit. Shiro wasn't judging.

"Um..." He gained his composure back in seconds, shock gone as he turned back to the washer, "Laundry."

Shiro blinked as he looked at the line of machines. Shiro had put his in the third one...which was right where the guy was leaning. Shiro didn't completely understand, so he leaned over the man's shoulder. He couldn't stop himself from gasping slightly and yanking one of the clothing pieces out of it. It was one of his white tank tops he always wore when working out. Instead of the pristine white it normally was, it was...

"No, no, no," Shiro frowned as he glanced at the rest of the clothes, seeing a few that he didn't recognize, "Shit. All my clothes are pink. Shit."

"Why are yours in with mine?" The guy stares at him with an interesting head tilt that makes Shiro think of his cat, "I put mine in before you."

"You did?" Shiro stared at the mess of clothes as he thought back. He'd been too distracted by the lack of sleep and break of routine, but his mind suddenly dragged up a memory of some red socks, shirts, and other clothes being inside the machine when he'd carelessly dumped his own in. Shiro laughed softly as he rubbed the back of his head where his undercut met hair.

"Oh, oops," he watched the guy who narrowed his eyes as if testing to see if he was telling the truth or not. He must have passed because seconds later, the man softened just slightly.

"Wasn't all your fault," he looked at the clothes before his eyes landed on Shiro's again and some type of emotion ran across them, "I'm so sorry. My cat got out, and I had to put her back before the landlord found her again. I think Red wants to get me in trouble."

"No problem," Shiro smiled gently as he imagined this guy chasing after a cat down the hall, "Besides, I was distracted and accidently put mine in without really looking. Should probably work on that."

"Yeah," the man nodded before glancing down at the pink pile, "What...what are we going to do now?"

"Well," Shiro coughed as he stepped closer to the machine, "We can get them into the dryer."

The man sends him a strange look, like he's smacked his head or something. 

"Why not?" Shiro shrugs as if losing his favorite white clothes to someone's red ones was a normal Saturday thing, "They're already pink. Must as well save on money while we're at it."

"Sure," he nodded after a moment. They both work on putting their washed clothes in one dryer in the corner of the room. Silence descends upon them as the machine gets to work drying the clothing.

"What's your name?" Shiro asks with genuine curiosity as the man gives him a small glare as he raises both hands, "You don't have to say if you don't want to."

The stranger takes a moment to stare him over before blinking and relaxing slightly.

"Keith," he answers with a short breath before he's staring at Shiro expectantly. 

"Shiro," He almost slips from where his hand is perched against the nearest surface, which would be the dryer beside the one they're using, "My name's actually Takashi Shirogane, but everyone just calls me Shiro."

"Shiro," Keith states and Shiro has to stop himself from reacting to the man's raspy yet soothing voice saying his name, "Hm...Nice to meet you."

"You too," Shiro frowns as a thought runs through his mind, "I haven't seen you before. Are you new here?"

"No," Purple eyes stare at him from under dark lashes, "I've been here for about a year now. Just never really get out of my apartment unless it's for work or grabbing groceries."

"It would have been cool meeting you sooner," Shiro grins as the man just stares at him again, "No, seriously. I'm always up for meeting new people. Besides, you seem nice."

Shiro ignored the rush of warmth to his cheeks as he focused on the working dryer with a cough.

"So...Does your cat get out often?"

"What?" Keith looked at him like he was asking if he was part alien or something before he blinked and shook his head, "No. Red's usually good. She's just...protective. Likes to make sure she's there to drive off anyone who wants to bother me."

"That's nice of her. She seems like she really likes you," Shiro watched the guy carefully as he nodded, "My cat is the opposite. Black's always off sleeping somewhere. I hardly see him some days between work and stuff. But he's always there if I need a break, you know?"

"Oh, yeah. Red can tell when I need her," he stared down at his hands twisted in front of him before his eyes gazed back up at Shiro, "Where do you work? If that's okay to ask?"

"It's fine," Shiro smiled as he listened to the machine hum beside them, "I work at the nearby training camp for military people entering the army and stuff."

"Military?" Keith's tone says he's either interested or thinking dark things, possibly both.

"Yeah," Shiro nodded as he waved his prosthetic nonchalantly to the point that it was no longer casual, "Hard getting into it when I have this. So I'm technically not part of the military, but I help train so..."

"Oh," Keith glanced away slightly as he shrugged, "I just figured..."

"That I was in the military," Shiro gave him a soft grin when he finally looked back at him, "Because of how I look."

"Your posture," Keith correctly with a few blinks, "You're straight backed even while leaning against the dryer. It's either a military thing or someone was really tough on you about sitting up straight when you were a kid."

Shiro blinked in surprise. The younger man was sharp and observant in a way that was refreshing. Not many people Shiro knew paid that much to the small details.

"What do you work on?" He asked curiously as the dryer buzzed away, doing its own thing still, "You said you don't go out much?"

"Oh, yeah," Keith crossed his arms over his chest as his black t-shirt clings to his lean frame, "I'm a photographer. Mostly freelance. I take pictures of scenery and things."

"That's neat," Shiro stated as he heard a beeping sound, "Dryer's done."

Keith narrowed his eyes in thought before Shiro could do anything.

"What?"

"Nothing," Keith shrugged after a moment, "We have to sort the clothes though."

Shiro had completely forgotten about that. They were in the laundry room for laundry. Just that.

"We can go to my apartment to sort though these," Shiro's face turned as red as Keith's socks in the dryer as he stuttered a little, "I mean, if you don't want to do it here or..."

"Okay," Keith nodded as his arms finally uncrossed, "I have a bag."

Pulling out a small grocery bag, he started loading the clothes in. A bunch of off white, faded pink, and bright red fell inside before he grabbed both handles up. Shiro shut the door on the machine as the younger started out the door. Shiro took the lead seconds after as he led them up the stairs to the level above the laundry room. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that Keith glanced at a door in confusion but didn't break step by his side. Shiro moved two doors down and opened the door. He hadn't bothered to lock it at all when he'd rushed to wash his clothes, so the door swung open. 

Shiro took a step in before he remembered his apartment barely looked lived in. The place was almost empty except a few pieces of furniture, sleek black with purple accents a few shades lighter than Keith's eyes. Not that Shiro didn't have enough money or time to decorate, but he just never had been into that sort of thing. But if Keith picked up on that, he didn't say anything. Instead, he waved the bag around.

"Where do you want your clothes?"

"In here," Shiro led him to his bedroom in the back past the small kitchen and living room. His room was just as boring, nothing new except a few posters of a new band.

"Voltron?" Keith glanced from his poster to his face before smiling, "They're pretty good," his nose scrunched adorably, "But I like Red Lion more than Black Lion."

"How could you?" Shiro teased as the younger just laughed, "Black Lion is awesome. Out...Out of my apartment."

"Not before I tell you why Red Lion is better," the smirk on his face made Shiro question how he hadn't ran across this guy in the past year, "See..."

They talked back and forth like they had known each other forever. Keith listed off a few reasons and then Shiro did the same for Black Lion, and by the end, they had the clothes separated. Tossing his into the white and black dresser drawer, Shiro listened as Keith went on.

"And then," Shiro frowned as Keith's voice trailed off, "Is that Black?"

Turning, he caught a glimpse of black fur as bright yellow eyes stared at the new guy in the apartment. Before they had time to even breathe, the Bombay cat was brushing against Keith's hand, demanding his attention by letting out a low meow.

"That's strange," Shiro muttered as he stepped closer to his cat (and Keith) and watched him rub against Keith's petting hand, "Black never really responds to anyone but me. I've had him since he was a baby, my friend had a litter of kittens and couldn't keep all of them. He usally ignores everyone."

Black let out a long purr as some drool slid down his chin from his contentment. Shiro chuckled as Keith glanced up.

"I think you're stealing my cat from me," he snickered when Keith's eyes widened, "It's fine. If Black wants the attention, let him. He needs to interact with others besides me."

"Okay," Keith's face relaxed as Black licked his hand, "I should probably get back to Red soon. I put her in my room before going back out, but she gets out somehow if I'm not home."

"I can come with," Shiro's mouth spoke before he could think, and he swore Black give him an unimpressed look, "If that's okay with you..."

"It's fine," he shrugged as he looked away, cheeks a little pink, "Let's go. It's not far."

They strolled through his room, out the living room, and to the door. Shiro didn't lock it this time either as he shut it. Walking back the way they came up, Shiro was surprised to run smack into Keith's back two doors past his as the younger man stopped abruptly. 

"You weren't kidding," Shiro stated as the raven-haired man scrunched his brows in confusion, "About being nearby."

"Oh," he opened the door and stepped inside, "Yeah. This is my...RED!"

Out rushed a cat with a short tail and red on its upper body and face. The rest of it was white. If Shiro knew his cat breeds, he'd say it was a Japanese bobtail. And Shiro could understand why Keith was worried as the cat ran at them. She looked fierce and two seconds from tearing into Shiro. But like his cat did to Keith, the cat paused. Staring at him with one eye silver-blue and the other golden, she seemed to judge him.

"Does she normally...?"

"What?" He asked as he tilted his head again, "Oh, no. She normally attacks at this point."

Red huffed before turning away, scratching her front paws on a nearby wooden leg as if to prove she had the claws to destroy Shiro if she wanted to. To Keith's credit, he barely flinched at the deep cuts added to the wood. 

"Anyway," he waved around the room with a shrug before putting his bag of clothes on the black and red couch. Red jumped on the furniture only to bury her head in the clothes. Shiro barely held back his chuckle at the look of annoyance on his face, "Here's my apartment."

Just like Shiro's, it was almost empty. Few pieces of furniture decorated the place with red accents and some white and black. There were some pictures along the walls and random places. Some were of Red. Some were of the scenery of the desert nearby. One was a cherry red motorcycle. But the ones that took Shiro's breath away were the ones of the night sky. From here, he could see Ursa Major, Pisces, Scorpius, Pegasus, and many more he knew.

"You must be out at night a lot."

"Yeah," he nodded as purple eyes stared at one of the pictures of the Milky Way, "I like it. It's quiet."

"God, I love the stars," once again, the words fly out of his mouth before he's aware of what he's saying, "They're beautiful. Before I lost my arm, I was training to be an astronaut."

"Before I was booted from my program, I was trying to be a fighter pilot," Keith spoke with stars in his own eyes, "I always wanted to go to the stars. This is the closest I'll get."

"They look good," Shiro noticed Keith's hopeful look, "Maybe we'll both see the stars someday. Up close."

"Maybe," the man nodded as he stared at Shiro as if searching for something, "I'd...like that."

"I..." Shiro knew he had to do something, "Can I give you my number?"

"You're twenty feet away from my apartment," Keith smirked as he pushed a paper and pen to Shiro, "Here."

"Thanks," Shiro scribbled down the number before handing the note to him, "Text me."

"I will," Keith smiled softly as Shiro waved and left. True to his word, Shiro got a text minutes later. Laundry day may have been messed up, Shiro stated in his head, but it was the start of something new and exciting. He didn't even mind his clothes turning pink anymore.


End file.
